


in muted light

by straightforwardly



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: F/M, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chihiro returns, for a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in muted light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hlae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlae/gifts).



Chihiro steps out into pure moonlight, streaming steadily down. Grass, a deep, lush green, brushes up against her thighs and floods the landscape as far as she can see. When she turns around, the grass continues on, with no sign of the building from which she had stepped out only moments before. 

The knowledge of where she must be immediately wraps itself firmly around her, despite the fact that it has been years and where she is looks nothing like the bathhouse, or the forest where Zeniba lived. She knows, somehow, this place where she stands is the same. Spirits live here, even if she cannot see them at the moment. 

She stands there a moment, looking around. There is nothing but grass and the moon and the stars glittering in the night sky. Her arms hang loosely by her sides; her hair tie shimmers from its customary spot around her wrist, looking just as it did the day Zeniba gave it to her. Distantly, she becomes aware of water, flowing. 

She begins to move towards the sound. She trusts water— rivers— as much as she can trust anything in this world where spirits live, and always has, ever since the River God. Ever since Haku. 

She wonders— do rivers in the spirit world have their own spirits attached? 

She doesn't notice the small shadow detaching itself from a blade of grass, slipping ahead of her.

—

Chihiro comes across the river sooner than she expects. One moment, there is nothing but the grass, and the next she almost stumbles headfirst into water, the river spreading out wide and straight before her. She should have seen the glint of water earlier— she had been watching for it, and this is no small river.

She crouches down, dipping her fingers into the water. What look like little fish swim up to her, and she lets them nibble at her fingertips. 

It is not Kohaku. She hadn't realized, until then, that she'd been hoping it was— that somehow, the river that once was his could be mirrored in this world. That somehow, his home, or a reflection of it, could have been returned to him. 

Nor is it the River God. She had met him only briefly, all those years ago, but she still remembered how his waters had felt as they had swept her to the ground. If this river has a spirit, it is one unfamiliar to her.

—

Gradually, Chihiro becomes aware of noise, music, cutting into the quiet of the river, ever increasing. When she looks up, it is to see a distant shape, floating closer and pouring light over the dark waters. It shapes itself into a yacht as it nears, a large, cumbersome thing that doesn't seem like it should fit as well on the water as it does.

As it draws closer, she can see the spirits onboard. They're dressed more gaudily, but otherwise, most of them remind her of her fellow workers in the bathhouse— looking almost like humans, with just enough of a difference to feel off. 

It occurs to her that perhaps, she should hide. Her contract with Yubaba had protected her the first time she had come here, but she still remembers how her humanity had flowed off of her like a skunk's stench, how the other spirits had reacted to it before she had made her contract. Haku had been kind, and Kamaji too, and even Rin in her own way— but they had been the exceptions. 

She isn't given a chance to decide. One of the figures notices her, and as he points at her, a cry goes up into the night. 

"A guest!"

Before she can think how to react, the music stops and the whole crowd rushes to the railing, in such a swift, sudden motion that she thinks for one quick moment that the whole yacht would tip over, like in a cartoon. They repeat the first one's words, over and over— "A guest! A guest! A guest!" 

Chihiro stands, looks up at the row of puffy, friendly faces illuminated by the lanterns hanging off of the railings.

"Come aboard!" one of them cries, and what looks like a carpet flows over the railing and solidifies into steps that end at her feet.

She smiles, suddenly reminded of how the whole bathhouse had turned out to see her pass Yubaba's test and win her freedom, and the way they had cheered for her. She touches the hair tie on her wrist, just a brief brush of her fingertips.

She doesn't know these spirits, but somehow, she's sure she won't come to harm with them.

"Coming!" she calls out to them, and steps onto the carpet. It's not quite steady, and the fabric wavers under her footsteps, but it holds, and she makes it over the railing and onto the deck without incident. 

She doesn't see the little shadow dogging her every step. 

The spirits burst into cheers the moment her feet touch the deck, and whirl her away to the center of the deck. One of them hands her a glass of something she doesn't recognize, and those who held instruments sweep back to their former positions. Within moments, the music begins again, as though it had never been interrupted.

—

Chihiro disentangles herself from the crowd; already, they seem to be forgetting about her, intent on their own amusement. She doesn't mind— she gets the impression that's just how they are, constantly moving on to the next interesting thing. She steps to the railing, near the prow, and watches the spirits for a moment.

She finally takes a sip of her drink. It's fruity, like cherries, with a strong aftertaste that makes her choke and decide it's not worth the sweetness. She turns to face the water, intending to— discreetly— discard the rest of the drink.

She gets as far as tilting her glass when her eyes lock on something she didn't expect to see: the elongated, gleaming white body of a dragon, set against the night sky. 

She stutters to a halt. 

It's Haku. She's certain of it— it has to be. 

She leans over the railing, waving frantically with her free hand. Her hair tie glimmers like the faintest of beacons. "Haku!" she calls out, pitching her voice to carry. "Kohaku!" 

The dragon— Haku, she thinks, definitely Haku— twists his body, turns in her direction. She calls out his name again— "Kohaku!"

One of the spirits, a squat little thing, drifts over to her. "Who are you calling?" he asks, with a curious tilt of his head. "Another guest?" 

Haku begins swooping down towards the yacht. 

Chihiro shakes her head. "No," she says. "A friend."

—

Haku lands on the deck gracefully, fading from dragon to human form in an instant.

Chihiro steps forward, drinking in the changes. He has aged as well, and she gets the sense that it is less because of the passing of years and more because he has always been older than her, and thus remains so. Otherwise, he is Kohaku, the same one she knew when she left the bathhouse all those years ago.

She wants to throw her arms around him as she when they had reunited outside of Zeniba's home, wants to chase away that lingering uncertainty with the knowledge that this is real, not another dream, and he is _here_. It has been so long.

It has been so long.

She halts mid-step, stumbling, flushing. It has been so long— so many years. She was a child when they last met, and now she is an adult, or nearly so. She mattered to him then, she's sure of it— but who is to say that hasn't changed, in the time that has eclipsed since they last met?

"Chihiro," he says, looking straight at her. He smiles, that soft, kind smile she remembers so well. "You're here."

"Yes," Chihiro says, answering his smile with one of her own. She firmly pushes her worries to the side— she'll figure out where she stands soon enough. "I'm back." 

She casts a glance over the other denizens of the yacht. None seem to have reacted to a dragon landing on their boat— now that she thinks of it, she is vaguely surprised they didn't swarm him as they did her. 

Haku follows her gaze. "You found friends, again," he comments. 

"They found me," Chihiro says. A slight frown creases her face as an earlier thought returns to her, and she glances back at him. "Back then— at the bathhouse— I wasn't safe until I signed the contract, because I was human. But here— none of them have even mentioned it. It's like my being here isn't unusual."

Haku reaches out, touches her wrist with gentle fingers. "It's because of this." It takes her a moment to realize he's talking about her hair tie. "It serves as a token. As long as you have it, you're welcome here."

She looks up at him, mute, and Haku gazes back at her, for one long moment. His words don't come as a surprise— rather, it is as though they unlock something in her. The knowledge slides into place, as if it had always been meant to be there. The hair tie Zeniba gave her, the one her friends made for her— if such a cold, impersonal thing like Yubaba's contract could protect her, then why not something made with such love?

He drops his hand, and she looks away, now acutely aware of her hair tie's presence on her wrist. Of the ghost of his touch. 

Her cheeks burn, and she raises her half-forgotten glass to her lips to distract herself, or calm herself, or at least make her think of something that wasn't this moment— anything that would allow her to meet Haku's gaze without the vulnerability building up in her chest.

Something inside her glass squeaks.

Chihiro starts, and the glass slips from her fingers, shattering into crystalline shards. 

A patch of shadow spills out onto the deck in place of her drink. 

"When—" she begins, meaning to ask, _when did you get in there_? It's clearly a living thing, for all that its body is nothing but a patch of shadow.

But before she can finish, she catches a glimpse of something silver in the shadow's body, and what she originally meant to say flees from her mind. 

"I remember now!" bursts from her mouth instead. "Hikari's locket!"

The shadow squeaks again, and darts away. Chihiro jumps over the broken glass and scrambles after it, her mind whirling. 

The reason she returned here— the reason why she entered that small, crumbling building, crossed through that doorframe and found herself back in the spirit world— how could she forget something like that? How could it not occur to her to wonder why she found herself here again?

"Sorry!" Chihiro blurts out. The shadow weaves its way through clusters of people, darting beneath their legs and forcing Chihiro to scramble to not run into them. "Excuse me!"

The shadow reaches the other side of the deck, and leaps onto the railing. It extends a tendril from its body like an arm. Dangling from it is a delicate silver chain— Hikari's locket. 

It's teasing her, Chihiro realizes— like this is a game. 

The shadow jumps into the air. Chihiro leaps forward— and catches hold of the end half of its body. 

The shadow lets out a surprised squeak as they both come crashing down, and Chihiro yelps as her wrists bang against the railing. She lies on the floor for a moment, breathless from the fall, but doesn't loosen her grip on the shadow. Then she groans, and rolls onto her back before forcing herself to sit up. 

Some of the other spirits stare at her. She winces. 

"Are you alright?" Haku kneels down besides her, already, immediately at her side

She nods, then holds out the shadow to him. "This stole my friend's locket," she says. "That's why I came here— I chased after it, to get it back. But then I forgot about it, somehow, until now."

Haku nods. "That happens, sometimes, when humans cross over. It isn't always— stable."

Chihiro bites her lip, nods. What can she say to that? 

She lowers her arms, looks down at the shadow. She sucks in a breath. "Where did the locket go?"

This time, the shadow's squeak sounds distressed. It pulls another tendril out from its body, and points over her shoulder. 

She turns, pushing herself to her feet. All she can see is the railing— no locket. She looks over the edge, into the dark water below. 

"It fell," she says. A stone sinks in her stomach, and she lets go of the shadow on the railing. "You're saying it fell. It's gone."

The shadow lets out another sad squeak, and reaches out with its tendril to touch her hand. She closes her eyes. 

"Chihiro," Haku says, and she looks up at him. He takes her other hand in his, threading their fingers together. "It's not lost forever— you can still retrieve it. You just need to ask the spirit of this river."

"The river?" She remembers dipping her hand into the water, how it had felt running over her fingers. "Do you know him?"

"Her," Haku corrects her. "Yes, I do." He pauses, hesitates, and Chihiro waits without speaking.

Then— "My river came from hers, once."

Chihiro turns to him. "Are you saying she's your mother?" she asks, wide-eyed.

"Not in the way you would think of a mother," he says. "Not in the same way your mother is yours." He looks at her, then at the water flowing by beneath them. "It's difficult to explain."

Chihiro is silent for a moment. "If she can get Hikari's locket back," she says, finally, "then I need to go to her."

"We're headed in the right direction," Haku says. He is still holding her hand. "I can fly you the rest of the way."

The shadow leaps from the railing, and lands on her arm, its body cool against her skin. It slides up her arm until it reaches her shoulder, where it squeaks and curls up against her neck. 

"Are you coming with us too?" Chihiro asks. 

It squeaks again, and Chihiro takes that as an affirmative.

—

The house Haku brought her to sits on the edge of the river, so close that Chihiro is half-surprised it doesn't collapse into the water. It's a simple, small building, made of stone covered in moss.

Chihiro walks forward, the shadow still clinging to her neck, and doesn't look back until she reaches the door. Haku gazes back at her, still in dragon form. She knows he can't speak to her in that form, at least not in a language she can understand, but she gets the impression that he is encouraging her.

She knocks on the door. 

The door opens.

"A human," says the woman who opens it. "Interesting." She towers over Chihiro, even as she slouches against the doorway. Something about the way she holds herself reminds Chihiro of Rin. The comparison comforts her against the woman's steely gaze.

"My name is Chihiro," she says. "Are you the spirit of this river?"

"You could say that," Haku's mother— Chihiro can't help but think of her as Haku's mother, even after he explained that wasn't quite right— answers.

"I wanted to ask for your help," Chihiro says, her voice clear. "A locket belonging to my friend was lost in your river."

Haku's mother chuckles. "And I suppose you want me to play fetch for you?" She leans over, meets Chihiro's eyes. "How do I know your story is true?" she asks, giving her an unpleasant smile. "You could have taken it yourself, and then lost it in your carelessness. I have no cause to help a thief."

The shadow begins squeaking angrily in protest.

"I didn't steal it," Chihiro says amidst the shadow's squeaks. "Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it's very important to my friend." She pauses, and briefly closes her eyes. "I can't make you help me. But I would appreciate it if you did."

Haku's mother looks straight at her for a few, long moments. Chihiro matches her gaze. 

Finally, Haku's mother lets out a breath, and shakes her head. "Very well," she says. "But only this once. I don't need it polluting my waters." She lifts her head, looking over Chihiro's shoulder. "And you. Don't make a habit of bringing humans to my door, Kohaku."

Chihiro glances over her shoulder, just in time to see Haku incline his head in response. 

When she turns back, Haku's mother is holding the locket in her hand. 

Chihiro looks up at her with surprised eyes, mute.

"It is my river," Haku's mother says in response. She takes Chihiro's hand, and lets the locket spill into her palm. "I felt it the moment it fell into me." She chuckles. "You seem to forever be losing things in rivers, girl." 

She closes Chihiro's fingers over the chain, and smiles in such a way, that Chihiro has to wonder how she could have ever found it unpleasant. 

"Thank you," Chihiro says. 

Haku's mother rolls her eyes. "Just scram."

—

Chihiro looks up at the sky, and she thinks even the stars looked tired.

"It'll be morning soon," she says. She looks down at Hikari's locket, coiled in the palm of her hand. "I think— I think I need to get home. Before people start to worry about where I've gone."

Haku leans his head against her shoulder, and she tangles her hand in his mane.

—

Haku flies her back to where she had stepped into the spirit world as the sky grows progressively lighter. The crumbling building she had chased the shadow through earlier that night does not reappear, but the doorframe through which she had walked stands there, as it had never left.

Haku lands a short distance away from it, shifting to human form as soon as Chihiro slides off from his neck. 

The shadow plops down to the ground as well. It has grown quieter, less energetic as the sun began to appear. Now, it presses itself against her leg and Chihiro leans down to pet what she thinks is the top of its head.

It gives a final squeak, before it pulls away and fades into the grass.

"I guess it's going home," Chihiro says, straightening up. She looks at Haku's hands instead of his eyes. "I have to go now, too."

"I know," he says. "But we'll see each other again, soon."

She looks up, at that. "Soon?" she repeats.

"Soon," he promises.

She has to wonder at her earlier hesitation. It doesn't matter how many years it has been— how could she have doubted that warmth in his eyes?

Chihiro steps forward, and he bends his head, meeting her halfway. They kiss once, twice, three times— slow, lingering kisses. Like a promise. 

"Remember," he says, when they part. "Don't look back."

—

She doesn't.

When she steps through the doorframe, her memories cling tightly to her shoulders. She looks down at her wrist, at her hair tie, and thinks of Haku, of the shadow, of all the friends she has made and didn't have a chance to meet again, this time. 

"Soon," she repeats, making her own promise. 

Then she steps out from the crumbling old building, and begins to make her way home.

**Author's Note:**

> The shadow was semi-inspired by the darklings in Tamora Pierce's _The Realms of the Gods_. I say "semi" because the similarities only occurred to me halfway through this story, but there was a definite influence there.
> 
> hlae, I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
